This is, punters, a Royale with Cheese. But totally your call. In the meanwhile, sit back and enjoy the show. I, for one, am enjoying the dismantling of our beloved Bureaucratic State, deep or otherwise.
Whatever, you get the point. Because metric system.
Go back in time, punters, back to the misty, trans dementia days of the Biden administration. Remember them? I do, though the memory's vague and indistinct; still, some things emerge out of the miasma, like the IRS hiring 87,000 agents to take your money.
Who would've thought, back then, that reversing 1913 and abolishing the IRS would be out there and on the table. Yet here we are, remarkable. In related news, a young Sergeant tells me, he's Signals, that a number of trannies have been given AAMs (Army Achievement Medal) and let go. Bye-bye.
Speaking of which, there seems to be an issue with non-combat arms. You'd expect, let the reader understand, that Expeditionary Signals would be combat trained and proficient, if only at a basic level. As opposed to being... something else.
You can bet your M4 that Russkie Signals in UKR know how to use a weapon. Maybe Hegseth will look into this issue.
Arduus Ad Solem,
LSP
Less than a 70 years ago, well within living memory, Russia lay under the blood-stained tyranny of the Bolsheviks and their successors. Those devils hated the Faith and attempted to stamp it out. They failed. Now their cousins in Corporate Rainbow Marxist Europa are howling and shrieking over the prospect of America walking away from its proxy war on Christian Russia.
Howl, shriek and rage all you want, Eurocrats, why should we pay a single penny in defense of the European Trans Rainbow? So go on, Brussels, London, Berlin, Paris and beyond, and send your mighty armies to Ost Front. Oops, you don't have armies because all those immigrant votes don't come cheap. Maybe you shoulda done the math.
Filioque,
LSP
It's freezing here, seriously freezing, there's ice in the dog's water bowl and snow on the ground. "What is this," I thought to myself grimly, "North Central Texas or Ice Station Zebra?" The latter, apparently, and here we are at the Compound wrapped in layers of protective clothing against the biting cold and piercing wind. What's happened?
Clearly this. Our Old Enemy the Weather decided to change, outraged at being cheated of EPA billions. Tribute denied, it changed the climate. So yes, the War on Weather continues, with hardy Texans ice fishing on Lake Whitney, doing their best just to keep alive in the new Ice Age.
In related news, the UK's committed itself to producing zero carbon emissions by 2030, or something like that. So the Sceptered Isle's going to end family farming because kill all Kulaks and cover the land with wind turbines and solar panels. That'll save the planet, obviously, and who knows, maybe all the rainbow energy will power Two-Tier Kier's mighty army all the way to Moscow itself.
I pondered all of this as a cold sun set in the rear-view after Mass, the revealed Word proclaimed and Sacrament confected. No small thing, the Mass must go on, even in the face of our ancient adversary, the Weather.
LSP
I don't recall voting to give Cocainsky a single cent. Here's Douglas McGregor:
Let's keep in mind Zelensky represents transgender-ism, LGBTQ on steroids, the destruction of religion in his own country and widespread censorship.
All of these things were celebrated by the elites in Europe who are now angry that they have been excluded.
All of these people are on borrowed time.
In the meanwhile, European rulers and the marionette MSM are seething and raging at the prospect of peace in the Ukraine and broader American/Russian detente. Seethe and rage all you like, you irrelevants, as you remember NATO without the US amounts to effectively nothing.
Not One More Cent,
LSP
Let's hear it for MTB and all you horsemen out there, not least Bud Munroe, Ronnie Storrs, Oswald Clarke, June Jordan, Phyllis Lewis and on. RIP. Speaking of which, I recall meeting Clarke for lunch at the Cav & Guards Club in London, back in the far off, misty days of the '90s.
We walked up the illustrious stairwell of the Club, overwatched by paintings of famous charges and I remarked, foolishly, "That must have been quite a thing." Clarke replied, "Of course, but not much use against tanks. We trained to do just that on the Downs in the '30s." And so he had.
After Beef Wellington at the bar, delicious, we retired to a quiet part of the Club because "they do bellow so." What a gentleman of the old school. He was, I understand, both surprised and pleased that I became a horseman in subsequent years and was, to his dying day, a stalwart defender of the Catholic Faith as received by Anglicanism. Rest in peace.
Riding now? There's been an hiatus since an incident with a mad Arab, but plans are afoot to visit the Clubs of the old Raj and put heel to stirrup.
Don't Fall Off,
LSP
PS. Apologies to WSF who's forgotten more about horsemanship than I will ever know.
Chelsea Clinton receives an annually-recurring funding from USAID, allocated by Obama for her Foundation, which provides afternoon meals to children in Africa, India, and Bangladesh.
However, as of today, the reported number of meals served stands at 11,886, implying an astonishing cost of $1,410 per meal.
Net Worth $70 MillionHusband Net Worth $45 MillionInheritance $52 millionUSAID Earnings $3.9 Million per yearReal Estate Assets $25 millionMonthly Spends $100,000Car Collection Eight
Maybe you scorn antichrist. That in mind, God save the Tzar and the holy martyrs of the Russian Royal Family who fell to demonic red rage.
Pay attention and salute:
Woe to you, Red Devils, the Romanovs will follow you like Furies. Your witchcraft will fall in on itself.
Can you afford steak, fellow serfs? Hardly, but if you're clever enough you can find it on deal at Brookshires, which is a kind of supermarket in North Central Texas. I bought a 4 pack of strips for 20 bucks, not bad, and here's one way to cook 'em.
Yes, Heavy Metal style. First, pat the room temp steaks dry, apply salt and pepper to both sides, add olive oil to your cast iron skillet, then heat that beast up until it's smoking hot. Apply steaks to skillet, observe them sizzling for two minutes like a forward observer and then flip, adding a generous cut of butter to the seared side.
Then let those bad boys do their thing for another two minutes, that's it, two minutes max. Then remove from heat. Let 'em rest, tented with foil, for 5 or so minutes, and fall upon your scoff.
